


Episode Codas: Season One

by lforevermore



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Episode Related, Gen, season one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 09:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lforevermore/pseuds/lforevermore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of short ficlets and drabbles based after each episode of Season One.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Episode One: Pilot

Sam finally nods off in the car, his face smushed up against the glass and his long legs wedged in at what can’t be a comfortable angle. It’s exhaustion that finally gets him, Dean thinks, even as Sam fights sleep, the sudden jerk of his head indicating that he’s come awake once more.

“Sammy,” Dean says, in his best soothing older brother voice, which means it’s a little gruff and a little fond irritation and a whole lot of thinly masked concern. “I got this. Been drivin’ a long time, not about to wreck us. You can sleep.”

“You can’t drive all night, Dean,” Sam replies. It loses whatever authority Sam was trying to achieve when he yawns halfway through it.

“Not gonna drive all night. Next town’s an hour away, we’ll find a motel there, crash for the night, and head for Colorado in the morning.”

Sam shook his head. “I’ll drive when you-“

“No, you won’t.” Dean glanced over at him. “You need sleep, Sam. I need sleep. We’re gonna find a cheap motel with two queens, and then we’re going to sleep until I feel like it’s _safe_ for us to drive again.”

Sam doesn’t say anything to that. It’s a bad sign. Sam should be arguing with him, out of sheer stubbornness or pride, but instead… Instead, Sam’s just slumping against the window, the look on his face not even pissed off. Sam just looks tired, and drawn, and sad.

“Whatever’s out there waited twenty-two years,” Dean says. He’s going for his gentle voice here, which is still kind of gruff. “It’ll wait another eight hours for us to get some shut-eye.”

Sam snorts, or huffs, or something. When Dean looks over a few minutes later, Sam’s eyes are closed, but he doesn’t look peaceful.


	2. Episode Two: Wendigo

It wasn’t that Sam had never driven the Impala. He had learned to drive in it, after all, as soon as he was tall enough to reach the pedals. He had driven it with Dean bleeding out in the backseat, he had driven it with Dean at the police station – Sam had driven the Impala whenever Dean didn’t have the ability.

“You’re turning too sharp,” Dean griped from the passenger seat. “I feel like I’m on a roller coaster, _ease_ into the turn, Sammy.”

“It’s Sam,” he replied, but Dean plowed through, ignoring him.

“You could be goin’ a little faster, you know. The speed limit’s like a guideline anyway, no one _actually_ goes that slow. The 5-0’s not on these back roads.”

Sam rolled his eyes, and kept to his nice, safe, fifty five miles an hour.

“What the hell are we listening to? Is this some of that college radio crap? Jesus Christ, Sam, I raised you better than this – _for Chrissake’s_ , _don’t turn so sharp!_ ”

Driving with Dean has a learning curve.


	3. Episode Three: Dead in the Water

“So,” Sam says, about forty miles from the Wisconsin-Illinois border. Dean has this sinking suspicion that he wants to talk about _feelings_ , and those tend to give him hives. “You were really good with Lucas.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Dean snorts. “Chicks dig guys who like kids. Dad used to carry you around and the ladies would fall at his feet.” He’s hoping to derail the conversation – Sam has that sincere look on his face.

It doesn’t work, of course. The kid’s always been like a dog with a particularly tasty bone. “You were always really good with me too.”

That… Dean’s expecting something about their raising, not _that_. “Yeah, well,” he says, and stops. He’s not sure what else to say.

Sam’s silent for another fifteen miles. Dean knows better than to think that Sam’s done – he’s chewing something over, thinking so hard that Dean can practically hear the gears in his head creaking in time with the music.

“Jess wanted kids,” Sam says finally, quiet and soft, looking at something thousands of miles away through the window.

 _Oh_ , Dean thinks. Something inside him aches for his brother. “Do you?” he asks, like he’s supposed to.

“I did. Or, well.” Sam shifts in his seat, crammed in the car as he is. “I think I did. Thought I did.”

“But not anymore.”

Sam shrugs. “I wouldn’t know what to do with a kid.” Then, he looks at Dean, all earnest eyes. “What about you? Do you want kids, Dean?”

Immediately, Dean’s shaking his head. “Hell no. No way. You’ve said it before, this job isn’t one to raise a kid in.” He doesn’t say that he’s afraid he would become his own father, driven by all the wrong things and focused on a dangerous goal. Sam studies him like he knows everything that Dean’s not saying. “Besides, I’ve got my hands full with you,” Dean adds, desperate to break the moment with a smirk.

“I’m not a kid, Dean.”

“No, you’re right. You’re still a moody teenage brat.”

Dean grins, Sam scowls, and they cross the border into Illinois.


	4. Episode Four: Phantom Traveler

“This was _not_ the way to face my fears, Sam!” Dean hissed. He was gripping the arms of the seat, knuckles white, and jumping at every single shudder the plane gave.

“C’mon, you’re okay.” Sam was going for soothing. It was a free flight, after all, given to them by the airline as an apology for the one they had just gone through. Sam thought it was only fair, since they had saved the plane and everyone on it, not that anyone but Amanda knew that. “Besides, it was this or driving a Toyota all the way back.”

“I’m doing this for my car. Damn it!” Dean smacked the arm rest in frustration, trying to breathe. “I’m tired of these motherfuckin’ demons on this motherfuckin’ plane!”

Sam stopped, staring at him. “…Dean.”

“What? It calms me down!”


	5. Episode Five: Bloody Mary

The bed dips a little when Dean sits down beside Sam. It’s been another long night for both of them – the nightmares won’t let Sam sleep, and if Sam doesn’t sleep, neither does Dean. It’s an older brother thing, Sam thinks, and even if it annoys the hell out of him, it’s also kind of endearing too.

It’s official. He’s so tired that he’s delusional.

“Listen, Sam.” Dean’s got that low, worried timbre he uses. “I know this last job was tough.”

“No, Dean, I’m okay,” Sam rushes to say. “I’m even sleeping more, and I know it wasn’t my fault-“ Well. He’s trying to tell himself it wasn’t his fault, but this kind of guilt isn’t easily swept away with the tide. But he’s trying, and that’s what matters.

“Hey, Mary was scary stuff,” Dean goes on. He’s bent forward a little, forearms on his knees and his hands folded together. “I’m just sayin’. It’s time to face your fears, Sam.”

Sam’s brow furrows. “What?”

Dean looks up at him, finally, and Sam can see the spark of mirth in his eyes. “I’ll hold your hand while you look in the mirror, if you want. All I’m askin’ is that you at least try to brush your hair.”

Sam rolls his eyes and shoves him off the bed.


	6. Episode Six: Skin

“How do I know you’re really you?” Sam asks one night as they’re driving.

Dean rolls his eyes. He’s been expecting this, taking note of the glances Sam’s been giving him since they left St. Louis. It’s a fear that Dean’s had himself, but one that he comfortably talked himself out of. After all, no one can pull a bitchface like Sammy every time he eats a burger.

Well, that, and they’ve walked past dogs with no adverse effects.

“I’m me, Sam,” he says. “The whole handsome package. No skin-shedding, no shape-shifting, and sure as hell no murderous tendencies. Well,” he allowed. “No more than usual. Besides, the shapeshifter was way too moody to be me. Seriously, I think he actually thought he was you.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, but he doesn’t sound convinced.

Dean gives a frustrated sigh and pulls off onto the shoulder. Sam looks alarmed, probably thinks that Dean’s gonna whip out his Beretta and shoot him. Dean just rolls his eyes again and gets out, stomping to the back of the car.

“What are you doing?” Sam says, sliding out of the seat and watching him.

“You know, Sam, I am one paranoid son of a bitch,” Dean says, popping the trunk, “but you take the freakin’ cake.” He pulls out a knife, silver, and holds it out, handle first. Sam, hesitant, takes it, and Dean holds out his other arm.

Sam sighs and looks down the road for cars, like Dean’s the one being irrational here. Dean shakes his arm impatiently, and then resolutely doesn’t hiss when the blade drags quickly across his skin.

“Satisfied?” he snaps at Sam and strides back to the driver’s door, leaving Sam to close the trunk. When Sam gets in, he looks sheepish. He doesn’t bitch when Dean turns the radio up, so he takes that as an apology.


	7. Hook Man

“What do you think about the immorality thing?” Sam asks when they’re three hours out of town.

“We don’t exactly live on the straight and narrow, Sam.” Dean checks his mirror, passes some idiot who wouldn’t know a driver’s license if it bit him in the ass.

Sam is quiet for a long moment. “I kissed her,” he admits.

Suddenly, Dean knows what this is about, and it hits him like a little stab in the heart. “Sam. You didn’t… You didn’t cheat.”

“Constance Welch said I’d be unfaithful,” Sam argues. “Maybe there’s some kind of foresight that ghosts have, maybe she knew that I’d-“

“Dude, you live like a monk,” Dean says, almost soothingly. “You didn’t cheat on Jessica. Besides, Sam… she’s _gone_.” Sam jerks his head away, gaze going out the window, but Dean plows on. “And maybe I didn’t know her, but I like to think that any girl you pick would have the good sense to want you to _live on_.”

Sam doesn’t say anything for forty-five miles.


	8. Bugs

Dean takes a shower four times as long as his normal one – this time in a crappy hotel shower instead of the steam shower from Oasis Plains.

“Jesus, Dean,” Sam says, sitting on the bed when he comes out. “What were you _doing_ in there?” A look crosses his face. “Wait, no, I don’t want to know.”

“I can still feel my skin crawling,” Dean admits, shrugs his well-shaken jacket on. “Bugs. Why’d it have to be _bugs_?”


	9. Home

Sam comes around the corner, deciding he needs to use the bathroom as well.

“Dad,” Dean says, and Sam stops in his tracks. “I know I’ve left you messages before. I don’t even know if you get ‘em.”

Sam wavers between walking forward and going back to the car – settles for standing in the in-between space where Dean doesn’t see him.

“But I’m with Sam, and we’re in Lawrence,” Dean goes on. “And there’s something in our own house. I don’t know if it’s the thing that killed Mom or not.”

This is _breaking his heart_ , Sam realizes when Dean starts to sound like he’s holding back tears, voice gone even rougher than usual.

“But I don’t know what to do,” Dean says, like a punch to the gut, and Sam thinks he should leave, go back to the car and wait, but he can’t get his feet to move. “So whatever you’re doing, if you could get here… please. I need your help, Dad.”

And it’s terrible to hear Dean beg – proud, stubborn Dean, begging their Dad to come help them. Sam realizes that there are tears pulling at his eyes too, and he backtracks quietly, goes back to the car and waits.

He doesn’t mention it.


	10. Asylum

Dean remembers growing up trying to please both Sam and Dad. Those two didn’t always coincide – Dad wanted to move, Sam wanted to stay. Dad wanted to hunt, Sam wanted to study. Dean struggled, and struggles still, with finding a balance between what Dad wants them to do and want Sam wants them to do.

“What do _you_ want to do?” Sam asked him once, before Stanford, before everything.

“I want you and Dad to stop being at each other’s throats all the time,” Dean had snapped. “I want one goddamn dinner in peace.”

“I mean, what do you _want to do_? Like – like go to school, or become a mechanic, or what?” Sam had looked at him so earnestly and angrily, like he was pissed off on Dean’s behalf, like they were _forced_ to do this, to save people.

That had pissed Dean off more than anything. “What I want to do and what I need to do are two different things, Sam,” he had said, low and gritty. “What I _need to do_ is always more important. You had better learn that.”

Two months later, and Sam was saying he needed to go to school. It was a lesson Dean half-wished he could take back.


	11. Scarecrow

“Let me get this straight,” Dean says in the car, once Emily’s on the bus and Sam’s told what little happened on his short-lived trek to Cali. “You met a hot chick and didn’t get her number? What’s wrong with you? Who raised you?”

“It didn’t occur to me,” Sam replies. “I was a little wrapped up in thinking you were dead.”

“Dude, I had a _plan_.”

“You were tied to a tree and the murderous scarecrow was already heading your way,” Sam points out. “Besides, I wasn’t thinking about Meg like that.”

“My god, you’re a monk,” Dean says, shaking his head.

“Just because I’m not like you-“

“It’s just that-“

“I know, Sam.” Dean’s suddenly serious. “But you said it yourself – Jessica’s gone. It’s time to let go.”

“Yeah well.” Sam blows out a breath, nostrils flaring. “It’s hard.”

“Know what’ll help?” Dean makes a sharp turn into a diner. “Pie.”

With a scoffing, disbelieving laugh, Sam rolls his head back. “No, thank you. I think we’ve both had enough pie.”

“Definitely not apple, all I’m sayin’.”


	12. Faith

It’s quiet in the car when it’s all over.

Dean knows a lot of things about himself. He knows that his morals are grey at best – his prize-winning quality is being able to talk the pants off of girls for Christ’s sake. Sam, meanwhile, has a heart of gold and the best puppy eyes that Dean’s ever seen, even if he can sometimes, _sometimes_ , be manipulative. He knows that if it had been Sam in that hospital bed, Dean would have tried everything he could. He doesn’t know if he would have resorted to a faith healer or not – all he knows is that he would be blind with panic and fear. Maybe he would have done the same after all. Maybe he wouldn’t have. He doesn’t really know, nor does he particularly want to find out.

“I’m not going to apologize, Dean,” Sam says. “Not for saving you.”

Dean doesn’t say anything. That’s not what he wants, exactly, he’s not sure what he wants. He wants the girl to be cured. He wants Sam to realize that of all the people worth saving in that tent, he didn’t make the top ten.


	13. Route 666

Sam stops bringing up Cassie two weeks after Cape Girardeau and the killer truck. He’d only overheard one conversation, stilted and awkward, and Dean had looked like he’d eaten a lemon for an hour and a half afterwards.

He figures this: as much as Dean loves Cassie (and he does love Cassie, or he did, at least), Dean isn’t built for a long relationship. There are too many factors, Sam thinks, one of which being Dean’s dedication to the job. Dean can’t have his cake and eat it too, and as much as Sam wants Dean to find happiness and peace and love and all that stuff, Dean has to make that decision.

Hell, Sam realizes as he thinks more about it. Dean’s already made that decision.


	14. Nightmare

Sam’s quiet. He doesn’t sleep that night – Dean only notices because he doesn’t sleep either, though he pretends, lying on his side and listening to Sam breathe. Dean wants to fix this for Sam, but he can’t.

He knows that Sam is associating himself with Max, knows that he thinks he sees something of himself in the ghost of the boy. Dean would give _anything_ for Sam to never have felt this responsibility for another’s life – Jessica, Max, countless others they meet. Their job isn’t easy on the heart, that’s for damn sure.

And the dreams… the ESP stuff that Sam tries to downplay, Dean doesn’t even think he can begin to fully understand. What he knows is this: he’ll take Sam however he is, freaky or normal or bitchy or a gigantic pain in the ass, and he’ll keep him as safe as he can. Sam _won’t_ become Max – Dean won’t let him.


End file.
